Title: Complications
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: DJ Sparkles
Rating: FRAO (language, mostly, so far)
Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue. I'll put them back when I'm done.
Spoiler Warning: Um, possible spoilers for all seasons so far… don't want spoiled, don't read. BIG spoilers for In My Time of Dying, Heart, All Hell Breaks Loose, Parts 1&2, and seasons 3,4, and 5.
Timeline: Diverges from Canon after episode 3x03, Bad Day at Black Rock. This means it's AU, folks. Alternate Universe. Some facts, features, and faces might be different than in canon. Don't like? Don't read. You've been warned.
Beta: Ithil-valon and River. You ladies just ROCK, you know that?
Pairings: None so far.
Part 11
"Do you remember what it said?" Bobby asked, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over them. He watched John and Dean stare at each other, almost oblivious to him and Sam.
Dean finally broke the tension, leaning forward again to take another scoop of eggs, then putting it down untasted. "I couldn't hear the words. Just this hum, a murmur. It was – it was okay, at first, but then it got higher and higher until it really hurt. That's when I woke up."
John nodded, still considering. "I heard words, but just like you, mostly a hum. Squeal, like feedback. Then two words, repeated. 'Have Faith.' That was it, have faith, over and over. Like a reassurance, or a prayer."
Sam was quiet, thinking. Bobby looked pensive, but he was finally able to come up with something else. "Have faith? That's a hell of a message, John. Have faith in what?" He got up and started clearing the table. He might be an old widower but he still tried to clean up after himself. "It's not like you're a regular church-goer, y'know. None of us are. Kinda hard in this lifestyle, even if we had the inclination."
Dean watched. It was almost like old times, listening to his Dad and Bobby hashing things out. He caught Sam's eye over the table and nodded slightly. Sam returned the nod, and suddenly everything was all right again. So what if Dean was a werewolf? Sammy still had his back and that meant everything. Dad back from the dead? Good deal, the three of them together would scare the crap out of any demon they came across. So he was going to hell in a couple months. Sam had promised to get him out of it, and he would. Dean had faith in Sam and that was all that mattered.
Sam nodded again, like he'd read Dean's mind. Might have, with all that freaky mind mojo he'd had. Then again, all that had supposedly died with old Yeller. Yep, it was time to forget food (had Dean really thought that?) and start working. He got up and trucked his dishes to the sink without being told and headed for the living room. "Sammy, you comin? We got work to do." That voice, for one thing, another hunt if they could find one, anything to keep from just sitting here waiting. Waiting for that red-eyed bitch to come and get him. Well, he wasn't going. No way. Sam would find a way out for him. And until then, he'd keep busy.
Sam followed him out of the room and John raised an eyebrow at Bobby. "Okay, the werewolf thing aside, those two are hiding something," he demanded. "I know my boys. How many times has Dean actually left the room while we were talking shop? Name one. That kid is a sponge for lore and myth. For tactics. For anything to do with the hunt."
Bobby dried his hands off and motioned for John to step outside with him. "You can help me pull a couple parts while those two read," he said reasonably. "Come on out in the shed and we can talk over that hulk you called a truck."
"Hey, be nice to my truck. Just because you don't have anything that good around here," John grumbled good-naturedly. It was like old times, he thought, and then a starburst of pain exploded over his left eye and he went reeling backward into the wall. "Singer, what the fuck?"
"You jackass," Bobby spat furiously. "You told him that he had to watch out for Sam. That if he couldn't help Sam, he'd have to kill his own brother. What were ya thinkin, huh? What were you thinking?" He got right up in John's face, the anger in his clear. "That wasn't enough, though. You put the idea in that boy's head that he was worthless without his brother, how could you do that? Your son, John, Dean made a damn deal because he thought Sam was more important!"
John sent Bobby backward with a shove and stood panting, his own anger beginning to surface. "You think you can take me, you're welcome to try," he snarled as he put himself in a ready stance. He wasn't up to a fight, not by any stretch of the imagination, he was still hurting too bad, but he wasn't going to back down if Singer came at him again, either. "It's not like I was going to be around to keep an eye on them, was it?" He feinted to the left and got one good solid swing in on the older man but just barely. "Dean knew what was at stake when I told him that. He understood. Azazel was gathering his 'kids,' Bobby. He was going to turn them into his fucking army. Was I supposed to let Dean watch his brother turn into a demon? We hunt demons, Singer, we don't let them run loose just because they're inside someone we know!" All of the anguish and pain over his decision was there to be heard by anyone listening. It had torn at him, had torn the heart right out of him, to think he might have had to kill Sam. It didn't matter that Dean had been left holding the bag; he'd meant to explain it further but there hadn't been time. Abruptly he dropped his hands and let the anger go. Bobby was right. He'd done something unforgivable to his boys and he'd better start trying to make amends. Then it really sank in. "Dean... made a deal?" His voice was soft, full of pain.
"Yeah, Dean made a deal." Bobby kept one wary eye on the other man, waiting for that next punch. He'd been lucky to get past John once, and he knew it. They were nearly the same age, but fanatical was the word for John Winchester when it came to training. Always had been. "Poor stupid kid got a year. One year. And that's half gone already." But all the fight had gone out of John with the realization that his oldest was looking at the same thing he'd already faced. An eternity in Hell, unless Dean could climb out. And even if he did, would he be himself? Bobby could see the horror in his friend's eyes, the sorrow, the endless pain. He'd felt it himself when he realized what Dean had done. He put his hands down. "Come on, you dumb bastard, let's go see what they've found."